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“Wait,” I told him.

He looked at me. “Stand by,” he ordered his transporter operator.

“I’d like to take a gem with me,” I told Brant. “Just one. So Federation scientists can replicate it and study it.”

He considered the request for several seconds. “All right,” he replied grudgingly. “Just one.”

I took a closer look at the goblet in my hand. It was quite beautiful. Had it not already been deprived of some of its beauty, my task would have been a great deal more unpleasant.

Finding the glor’ya that seemed the loosest, I grasped it between thumb and forefinger and gradually worked it back and forth. Finally, it came out of its setting.

Showing it to Brant, I deposited it in a pocket of my jacket. Then I put the goblet down and got to my feet.

Abby rose as well, shaking her head at what we were leaving behind. Then she looked at her brother.

He spoke into his device. “Transport,” he said.

I took a last look at the lost majesty of Dujonian’s Hoard. Then I found myself back on the planet’s surface, standing among Brant’s fellow rebels as before.

He looked at his sister. “Disappointed?”

“About the Hoard?” asked Abby. She shook her head.

“Are you sure?” her brother asked.

“I’m sure,” she replied honestly. “Oh, I’ll admit it was exciting to think we might take home a legendary treasure. But to tell you the truth, Richard, it never mattered that much to me. I was much more interested in finding my brother.”

Brant blushed and glanced at me. “I’m afraid Abby’s always been this way, Captain. I may have been born first, but my sister has never stopped looking out for me.”

I nodded. “As it should be,” I said, wishing I had looked after my older brother a little better.

“And you need not worry about whom I recruited,” Brant said knowingly.

I smiled. “My concern was that obvious?”

“It was written all over your face,” the man told me. “I only approached a couple of my Starfleet colleagues about joining the rebellion, and neither of them was tempted to join me. In fact, my efforts didn’t meet with much success in general.”

“Much?” one of his comrades echoed.

The fellow was tall and thin, with orange scales in place of skin and distinctive, black markings under his eyes. He seemed to take exception to Brant’s choice of adjectives.

Abby’s brother heaved a sigh. “All right, Ch’wowtan. Make that none.” He took on a rueful expression. “Apparently, there aren’t nearly as many adventurous souls out there as I’d imagined.”

Madigoor

“I RESENT THAT,” said Dravvin.

Hompaq bared her teeth. “I wish the p’tak were sitting at this table. I’d give him an adventure he would never forget.”

“If he managed to survive it,” Bo’tex suggested.

The Klingon grunted her assent.

“Obviously,” said Picard, “Brant’s luck would have been better if he had done his recruiting here.”

“Absolutely right,” Bo’tex agreed.

“But, of course, he couldn’t have done his recruiting here,” Flenarrh was quick to point out.

Picard smiled. “Ah, yes. Captains only.”

“Indeed,” Robinson commented slyly. “Keeps out the riffraff.”

“Enough of that,” said the Captain of the Kalliope. “Where were we? Or should I say, where was our friend Captain Picard?”

Dravvin harrumphed. “As I recall, Mr. Brant had told him there were no adventurous souls to be found.”

“Damn his nostrils,” Bo’tex spat.

“And no Hoard to be taken home,” Flenarrh added wistfully.

“Damn his ears and his eyes as well,” the Caxtonian hissed.

Robinson regarded them. “Listen to the two of you. It’s not as if the Hoard would have been yours, in any case.”

“True,” said Flenarrh. “But I can dream, can’t I?”

Hompaq made a sound of disgust. “We have discussed the treasure at length, have we not? Now, for the sake of Kahless, let us move on.”

“A spendid idea,” Dravvin said, in effect seconding the motion.

Bo’tex harrumphed. “Spoilsports.”

“Indeed,” said Flenarrh.

Making a point of ignoring them, Robinson stroked his ample, white beard. “As I recall, the erstwhile Mr. Brant was complaining about his inability to attract recruits.”

“That’s right,” said Picard, glad the man had set